


Last Minute Conversations

by curiositykilled



Series: Being Frostiron in an Avengers World [11]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drinking & Talking, really that's all there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:08:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiositykilled/pseuds/curiositykilled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Natasha drink and talk. Yes, that's it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Minute Conversations

                “How do you want to go?” Natasha asked abruptly.

                Given why they were down here, it was perhaps a bit tactless, but she blamed the alcohol (to which, admittedly, they were both insensitive). That and the stress. Loki hummed faintly, spinning the brown bottle between the tips of her fingers before lifted it to take a sip.

                “Fire,” she answered, the bottle’s mouth a millimeter from her lips.

                Natasha’s lips twitched faintly at the hard irony in that. _Fire to melt away the ice?_

                “Would it work?” she asked instead.

                Shrugging a slim shoulder with a fluid grace that didn’t belong in so casual a motion, Loki took another drink. Her jacket was loose and a little too big – Natasha had the vaguest feeling that it was Tony’s – and rustled faintly when she moved.

                “Maybe. I guess I don’t have to ask you,” she replied.

                Unfazed, Natasha nodded slightly. It had been over thirty years since the Chitauri, and while nightmares still lingered in purply shadows under the remaining teammates’ eyes, enough had changed that she wasn’t bothered. She wouldn’t have been having drinks with Loki in the bar below the med wing if she was.

                Silence draped itself comfortably around them, though Natasha had the sneaking feeling that there wasn’t much silence for Loki; she’d learned long ago, much to her chagrin, that Asgardians had hearing superior even to Steve’s. The beeping of the monitor upstairs was surely ringing in the dark-haired goddess’ ears. It had rung in her ears eight years ago when Clint was the one running out of breath.

                “What’s Hel like?” Natasha finally queried.

                A dark brow quirked curiously even though Loki’s gaze remained forward. Natasha had once actually asked whether she plucked her eyebrows, but the genuine befuddlement that had flooded Loki’s face had clearly led her to believe that gods really did just have divinely crafted features. If some little, human part of her felt cheated, well it was natural.

                “Grey,” Loki finally answered, and that was about as much as Natasha could hope for.

                A faint buzz could be heard from the counter top, and Loki swished her fingertip lazily across the phone’s screen before lifting it gently to her ear.

                “Yes, honey?” she answered.

                Taking a sip of her own drink, Natasha fended off a faintly rueful smile at the way Loki’s voice warmed and softened for her son. She and Clint – well, they hadn’t even made it to marriage. Which was probably a good thing. Two assassins raising a kid in a tower filled with traumatized superhumans? _Yeah, right._ The fact that an exiled god and a self-destructive genius managed to raise a decent kid in the same circumstances was brushed aside.

                “Of course. Don’t worry. Yes…yes. I love you,” Loki murmured before lowering the phone with a quiet sigh.

                “How close is he?” Natasha asked.

                “Six hour layover in Paris,” Loki replied.

                Neither had the heart to say aloud what they both knew, that Vali’s father did not have that long to wait. Silence reappeared, heavier this time and loaded with a thick, inky darkness.

                “We didn’t ever get you into that catsuit, did we?” Natasha asked abruptly.

                Surprise caused a soft snort of laughter to huff out of Loki’s mouth.

                “It would be Tony’s last wish,” she agreed softly.

                “C’mon,” Natasha grinned, downing the last dregs of her drink, “let’s give him a bang to go out with.”

                


End file.
